Lullabies
by labarynth-mind
Summary: A 5yearols Harry wakes up from a nightmare. This could be from the same memory as my story The was things are... Oneshot


Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

There was screaming all around him and green light kept flashing through the darkness. Every time the light would flash he would get a brief glimpse of his surroundings. He would see a pretty lady with red hair and a tall man with messy black hair like him. They would be running or fighting with invisible opponents as Harry watched the eerily green tinted scenes fearfully.

The man was surrounded by the green light. In an instant he fell to the ground with his eyes still wide open, then everything was dark again.

"No, not Harry! Please not Harry!" The woman's voice cries. There is a piercing and evil laugh and another flash of green light. This time the woman falls with wide blank eyes, eyes the same color as the frightening light. Eyes the same color as his own iris. Cold red eyes were illuminated with green light and there was nothing. There was no man and no woman. There was no green light and no cold laughter. There were no red eyes or screams. Even the darkness seemed to be gone.

5-year-old Harry Potter woke with a start and sat bolt upright in his cot. He blinked the hot tears and cold sweat from his already blurry vision and looked around his small, shadow heavy cupboard. He took deep breaths to stop his rapidly beating heart, this was pointless as it sped up again when his door was thrown open quickly. He looked up, his vision was blurry do to his lack of glasses but he could easily recognize his aunt's thin frame as the hall light silhouetted it.

"Boy! What on earth was that screaming for? You almost woke Dudley! Just be glad that Vernon is gone on business or you would be in for it!" She whispered harshly. Harry sniffed and nodded.

"I'm sorry aunt Petunia. I—I had a really bad dream." He stuttered out over his silent sobs. Once again, he didn't have his glasses but he could see his aunt's face soften a bit. She looked towards the upstairs for a quick second and let out a sigh.

"Get out here, boy." She whispered again, this time her voice lacked the harshness it once held. Harry got out of his lumpy cot and crawled out into the hall, once out he stood up and looked up at his aunt curiously, tears still rolling down his flushed cheeks. Much to his surprise, his aunt looked down at him softly. "What was the dream about Harry?" Harry jumped slightly at her use of his first name; he licked his lips and looked down.

"It was dark and people were screaming. There was a lady with red hair and a man with black hair like mine. They were running and there was green light everywhere, the light would surround them and they would fall down with their eyes open and they wouldn't get up. Then there were scary red eyes…. Then nothing…" Harry kept his eyes on the ground for a while but looked up when his aunt remained silent. She had a look of surprise, slight sadness, and something that looked like pity. Then after a bit her face changed to one of disgust. She muttered something that sounded oddly like "bloody, filthy magic…" And scowled angrily at him.

"Stop being a pitiful child. It was just a dream, a stupid one at that." She grabbed his arm and pushed him back to his cupboard. He fell and turned so he was sitting on the ground with his legs to the side and looked up at his aunt with wide, hurt, green eyes. "Go to bed and try to shut up this time." She snapped out, she was about to close the door when Harry spoke again.

"Wait… Aren't you…" There was a long pause and his eyes got even sadder than before. "Why won't you hug me?" There was a long silence as Petunia starred at him in shock. "Why won't you hold me and sing like you do with Dudley when he has a nightmare? Why him but not me?" The silence from before continued as Petunia watched him with wide brown eyes, her face was one of shock and a bit of painful regret. It was gone soon though. She got a look of indifference and pursed her lips.

"Because…" Her voice seemed to tremble and fade a bit when he let out a tired and sorrowful hic-up. "Because… I love Dudley. I love him dearly. I don't love you. I could never love you. No one else ever will either." There was a soft creaking noise when Petunia Dursley swung the cupboard door shut in her nephews face. The last thing she saw was his blank, teary face starring at the spot just beyond her knees.

Harry sat alone in the dark of his cupboard for a while as he listened to his aunt climb the stairs and make her was down the hall to her room. Her footfalls stopped when a weak voice called from above Harry, from Dudley's room.

"Mum? I had a nightmare." There was a small pause and then Petunia's footsteps were heard heading to her sons room.

"Oh Duders. It's ok, love." Harry heard her voice coo, a squeak was heard as she joined her son in his bed. There was a small pause when a slightly out of tune, yet soft and calming voice was heard through the floorboards. "Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mummies gonna buy you a mocking bird." It sung softly and soothingly. Harry's eyes stung and tears rolled down his cheeks as his eyelids fluttered closed. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth a bit. He imagined that the arms were his aunts. He imagined that he was sitting on a big bed, cradled against a warm chest as a sweet voice swam through his ears. "And if that mocking bird don't sing, mummies gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass, mummies gonna buy you a looking glass." Harry's own trembling voice began to quietly hum along to the familiar tune. "And if that looking glass gets broke, mummies gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that billy goat don't pull, mummies gonna buy you a cart and bull." Harry could feel the slight vibrations in the warm chest he rested his head on as the voice sang on. "And if that cart and bull fell down, you'd still be the sweetest kid in town…" Harry felt soft lips kiss his forehead affectionately and a smooth hands stroke his hair slowly. 

"Goodnight, love." The voice whispered into his ear, a small and rare smile graced his lips. "And sweet dreams, Dudley." These words were a cold slap. The smile he had faded slowly from his lips and his eyes opened. 

He found himself sitting on the floor of his cupboard with tears on his face and his own arms wrapped around his shoulders. Footsteps were heard softly as they made their way back to the master bedroom. Without more than a few seconds in warm arms with calming words and a gentle lullaby, Harry was suddenly alone again. Alone on the floor of his cupboard, with no one to hold him but himself.


End file.
